Read Shakespeare’s First Folio Part 632

Shakespeare’s First Folio is a web novel produced by William Shakespeare.
This webnovel is presently completed.

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Read WebNovel Shakespeare’s First Folio Part 632

Indeed (sweet Loue) I was comming to your house

Bian. And I was going to your Lodging, Ca.s.sio.

What? keepe a weeke away? Seuen dayes, and Nights?

Eight score eight houres? And Louers absent howres More tedious then the Diall, eight score times?

Oh weary reck’ning

Ca.s.sio. Pardon me, Bianca: I haue this while with leaden thoughts beene prest, But I shall in a more continuate time Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca Take me this worke out

Bianca. Oh Ca.s.sio, whence came this?

This is some Token from a newer Friend, To the felt-Absence: now I feele a Cause: Is’t come to this? Well, well

Ca.s.sio. Go too, woman: Throw your vilde gesses in the Diuels teeth, From whence you haue them. You are iealious now, That this is from some Mistris, some remembrance; No, in good troth Bianca

Bian. Why, who’s is it?

Ca.s.sio. I know not neither: I found it in my Chamber, I like the worke well; Ere it be demanded (As like enough it will) I would haue it coppied: Take it, and doo’t, and leaue me for this time

Bian. Leaue you? Wherefore?

Ca.s.sio. I do attend heere on the Generall, And thinke it no addition, nor my wish To haue him see me woman’d

Bian. Why, I pray you?

Ca.s.sio. Not that I loue you not

Bian. But that you do not loue me.

I pray you bring me on the way a little, And say, if I shall see you soone at night?

Ca.s.sio. ‘Tis but a little way that I can bring you, For I attend heere: But Ile see you soone

Bian. ‘Tis very good: I must be circ.u.mstanc’d.

Exeunt. omnes.

Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.

Enter Oth.e.l.lo, and Iago.

Iago. Will you thinke so?

Oth. Thinke so, Iago?

Iago. What, to kisse in priuate?

Oth. An vnauthoriz’d kisse?

Iago. Or to be naked with her Friend in bed, An houre, or more, not meaning any harme?

Oth. Naked in bed (Iago) and not meane harme?

It is hypocrisie against the Diuell: They that meane vertuously, and yet do so, The Diuell their vertue tempts, and they tempt Heauen

Iago. If they do nothing, ’tis a Veniall slip: But if I giue my wife a Handkerchiefe

Oth. What then?

Iago. Why then ’tis hers (my Lord) and being hers, She may (I thinke) bestow’t on any man

Oth. She is Protectresse of her honor too: May she giue that?

Iago. Her honor is an Essence that’s not seene, They haue it very oft, that haue it not.

But for the Handkerchiefe

Othe. By heauen, I would most gladly haue forgot it: Thou saidst (oh, it comes ore my memorie, As doth the Rauen o’re the infectious house: Boading to all) he had my Handkerchiefe

Iago . I: what of that?

Othe. That’s not so good now

Iag. What if I had said, I had seene him do you wrong?

Or heard him say (as Knaues be such abroad, Who hauing by their owne importunate suit, Or voluntary dotage of some Mistris, Conuinced or supply’d them, cannot chuse But they must blab.) Oth. Hath he said any thing?

Iago. He hath (my Lord) but be you well a.s.sur’d, No more then he’le vn-sweare

Oth. What hath he said?

Iago. Why, that he did: I know not what he did

Othe. What? What?

Iago. Lye

Oth. With her?

Iago. With her? On her: what you will

Othe. Lye with her? lye on her? We say lye on her, when they be-lye-her. Lye with her: that’s fullsome: Handkerchiefe: Confessions: Handkerchiefe. To confesse, and be hang’d for his labour. First, to be hang’d, and then to confesse: I tremble at it. Nature would not inuest her selfe in such shadowing pa.s.sion, without some Instruction. It is not words that shakes me thus, (pish) Noses, Eares, and Lippes: is’t possible. Confesse? Handkerchiefe?

O diuell.

Falls in a Traunce.

Iago. Worke on, My Medicine workes. Thus credulous Fooles are caught, And many worthy, and chast Dames euen thus, (All guiltlesse) meete reproach: what hoa? My Lord?

My Lord, I say: Oth.e.l.lo.

Enter Ca.s.sio.

How now Ca.s.sio?

Cas. What’s the matter?

Iago. My Lord is falne into an Epilepsie, This is his second Fit: he had one yesterday

Cas. Rub him about the Temples

Iago. The Lethargie must haue his quyet course: If not, he foames at mouth: and by and by Breakes out to sauage madnesse. Looke, he stirres: Do you withdraw your selfe a little while, He will recouer straight: when he is gone, I would on great occasion, speake with you.

How is it Generall? Haue you not hurt your head?

Othe. Dost thou mocke me?

Iago. I mocke you not, by Heauen: Would you would beare your Fortune like a Man

Othe. A Horned man’s a Monster, and a Beast

Iago. Ther’s many a Beast then in a populous Citty, And many a ciuill Monster

Othe. Did he confesse it?

Iago. Good Sir, be a man: Thinke euery bearded fellow that’s but yoak’d May draw with you. There’s Millions now aliue, That nightly lye in those vnproper beds, Which they dare sweare peculiar. Your case is better.

Oh, ’tis the spight of h.e.l.l, the Fiends Arch-mock, To lip a wanton in a secure Cowch; And to suppose her chast. No, let me know, And knowing what I am, I know what she shallbe

Oth. Oh, thou art wise: ’tis certaine

———-

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